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To Those Who Didn’t Attend BlogHer: Your Life Is Better Than Mine This Week

During the BlogHer ’12 conference this week, I saw a few Tweets from the bloggers who were home. Some of y’all organized for the BlogHerAtHome conference and others of you resolved to go next year. I felt for y’all– there I was having a fabulous time learning more about blogging and eating the generous desserts Hilton offered at various session, while y’all were at home in your pajamas feeling deprived and left out.

Well, today’s a day of reckoning. As I grit my teeth through the reentry back into my normal life, I can assure you, non-BlogHer attendees, that your life this week is infinitely more manageable and your psyche is considerably more in tact than mine.

It’s only fair I share the reasons why:

1. You probably won’t be spending hours this week returning unworn outfits to the Gap and J. Crew and every other damn place I had to pick something up for this conference. I am not sure when exactly I confused BlogHer with Project Change Your Clothes 50 Times in 72 hours, but it happened. I just spent 35 minutes looking for a receipt for some jewelry from Francesa’s. And I just noticed my J. Crew receipt ominously warns: “All Sales Final.”

My “All Sales Final” Treasures

2. You won’t get escorted out of J. Crew in handcuffs for refusing to accept you cannot get a refund for the dress you bought as part of the so-called “final sale.”

3. You, having been at home in a natural and safe environment, probably remember how to talk to your husband and other men who cross your path. I, on the other hand, went 72 hours without any male contact, other than cheering wildly for Neil Kramer when he read his piece at the Voices of the Year keynote. So, you are busy going for a run or balancing your check book, while I am trying to remember how to be married. To a man. Or just talk to him.

4. I had a roommate all weekend, and we had other bloggers crash in our room. You know what that means, right? It means I never felt comfortable “releasing” fully during the whole weekend. So while you stayed home and ate your ProActiv yogurt and kept your body humming along, I have a bit of a backlog and when it’s ready to exit my body any second now, it won’t be pretty. It just won’t. I just can’t poop around strangers.

5. Are you going to be spending the next 5 days trying to explain to your daughter what those purple boxes of triple-pleasure vibrators in your suitcase are? I am. Because I chose to unpack my suitcase in front of my 3-year-old daughter, and she now wants to know all about those vibrators that were sitting right there on top in a purple box. Purple is her favorite color. “Those are mommy toys, honey.” “No, you can’t play with them.” “Yes, you’re right, those are bubbles for mommies. Let’s go to the park.”

6. You, dear home-bound bloggers, missed the rare opportunity to meet the Hilton staff members who served our conference. Largely, they were a competent and professional bunch. But, there was a ginger-haired bouncer who looked like Danny Bonaduce’s Botoxed younger brother, and he was a real stickler about checking badges. He touched my breast once trying to verify my badge’s credentials. I’ll be having nightmares about both him and that overly-aggressive wait staff who tried to clear our lunch plates before we were ever done eating. You spared yourself this. Be grateful.

7. If you are blessed and insured enough to take anti-depressant medication, you probably took it all weekend long without missing a single swallow. But, when I was busy packing all my baubles and business cards, I forgot my Zoloft. Now I am trying to bounce back from the conference while being under-medicated for 3 days. Why am I suddenly on the floor in the fetal position keening? AWE.SOME.

8. Did you have the following conversation with your spiritual advisor/husband/sponsor today:

Her: So you enjoyed the conference?

Me: Yes.

Her: Were you inspired by all the great people you met?

Me: Totally inspired! And that’s why I am now suicidal.

Her: Makes perfect sense.

Me: Really?

Her: NO! What are you talking about?

Me: There were so many great people there. They can write so well and they are hilarious and successful and entire nations follow their every word. It makes me feel like small potatoes.

Her: Small potatoes is not the worst thing in the world. You don’t have to kill yourself because you are not a big potato.

Me: You don’t understand. It’s not that I am a small potato, like a mini-red-skinned one you put in stew. It’s like I am barely a french fry. Right! I am not even a French Fry from stupid McDonald’s. I am that burnt little nib that falls off and lands in the corner of the french fry pouch that you have to lick your finger to get me to stick so you can pop me in your mouth. I probably only have about 8 calories to offer.

Her: I like those little nibs. They are salty and crunchy. I love licking my fingers and pressing them into the corners of my french fry bag so I can eat them up.

Right? It’s tough. It’s funny to hear you say that because you are a rock star. You have a completed book, you have all these followers, you are dripping with talent and running and heart and soul….and you are one of those people I cannot compare myself to because I get that nibby french fry feeling…. You are The Big Potato. And I love you for it.

But see, I think you are also the big potato, or another big potato (I think I’m pretty rockin’ too) but it bothers me that you don’t see it. Because I see it loud and freakin’ clear. I am an introvert, so conferences like that freak me out in a massive way. Plus I am a recovering addict, so the thought of hobnobbing without substances to help me with the anxiety and lack of privacy almost makes me wig out in advance. But really, comparisons make us miserable hun. Be the best YOU which is a pretty effing fantastic woman. And I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t mean it. I’d come up with some stupid platitude . . . I don’t comment on many blogs, you know? Just the ones I really like (and the occasional suck-up to a big player but that gets old fast).

This is pretty long and personal so please feel free to follow up offline if you want.

Maybe you’re right. I never liked Jimmy Dean. Now, Gordon’s fish sticks…that’s different. I am down with the nibs because I am crunchy and golden and DEELISH! (I am totally lying right now, but tired of being such a downer!)

Bah! I’m sending you big hugs/support- not only for the undermedicated side of you, but also the feeling small side of you. Remember how I said that I wanted to be you when I grow up? That still stands. While you were brave enough to go, to see, to do, to be vulnerable, I was home having a Twitter foursome with Reedster and Beginfromhere and Snapsandbits. Oh, and being scared out of my mind on a first date. Who really wins here?😉

But you can kick my ass twenty ways from Sunday and I can’t even do a push up. Wait, what am I even talking about now? I always gotta be jealous of something and your Crossfit prowess makes me green with envy.

And, thank you for your kind words. Do I have what I need for today? Love, family, health, inspiration, memories and hope? Yes. Zoloft didn’t give me nice friends like you. I am not sure where you came from, but I am glad you are here.

You are awesome, and I think you are big potatoes for sure. Even if you don’t see it yet, I hope that at least you can see that you have all of the makings to be a big potato. Like sour cream, and chives.😉
You are funny, brilliant, and honest. You are a great writer and an all around good person and I think that will take you so very far.

Plus, you’ve obviously got a whole lotta people who are standing behind you and cheering you on. I’ll be the one with the rainbow pom poms, okay?
You’re a rockstar.
P.S. Thanks for making me happy that I didn’t go.

Ha! Thanks for making all of us #homeher12 attendees feel better. I’ll bet once the reentry stops smokin’ you’ll be so happy you went! I think you are awesome! Plus I’m kind of obsessed with Blue Baby since that’s the first post of yours I read😉

You are Too funny! It was do fun to meet you. Next time: definitely longer!! At least a cup of coffee. And you’re no unpopped kernel– you are a cob with butter and salt that’s big enough to feed the world

Welcome home! Can’t wait to catch up live. Hilarious post. I love the pic from yesterday of you in rollers and an oven mitt over your hand. So not-you! I feel you on the pooping issue. Here’s to lots of healthy pooping!

I am so new at this that I didn’t know what was going on about a conference until all of my favorite bloggers dropped out of the scene for awhile! From the looks of all the pics and accounts…sounds like a great opportunity! One bit of advice…individually wrapped prunes-they do wonders😉

Transitioning sucks. Nothing good about it. Hope your day is getting better.
I’m not quite feeling less loser-ish for not going, but thanks for the valiant effort! Am having the back-end blues (of the conference, silly. My pooping is just fine!). I gave you an assignment on my post this a.m. (cause everyone loves assignments) so check it out (cause everyone loves to be ordered around. Right?).

Ok so #1 I just found your blog yesterday, love it, you’re hilarious #2 I actually read this post while hiding in the bathroom hoping for 5 minutes of “mommy time” aka read a blog post and pee at the same time. #3 I quite literally laughed so hard at your #8 conversation that I pee’d.. good thing I was already in the bathroom. Now I must head back to mommy land to be greeted by my 16 month old’s slobbery wet hand that he just pulled out of his mouth and will proceed to wipe on my face.

That’s fantastic because I am commenting while sitting on potty (still pee pee only). Tmi. Anyway, happy you found me. My 18-month old just found his penis. Things are getting a little advanced around here for me.

Christie!!!! I am screaming with laughter. Please, stop, stop, stop blogging! My heart can’t take it! You are everywoman’s mirror. Every single dorky thing we ever say to ourselves, about ourselves, you put out there for us all to shake our heads over and DISPUTE. Really, we love you more than ourselves. Or at least that’s often true enough for me. No one will let you own the nib thing, girl, cuz it’s just not so. Thanks for living large and out loud for all us wahines. Love Love Love Love to you!

I agree that when it comes to McDonalds fries, the small crispy ones are the best. And you can never have enough of them. I’m not exactly sure what point I’m trying to make, but I’m sure I would’ve felt the same way about the small potato thing. But you shouldn’t! Amazingly the blogosphere seems to be big enough for all shapes and sizes. Keep on keeping on. Also, glad you finally pooped (I actually looked at your Twitter stream to check for an update on this important matter before commenting. #poopwatch2012)

Seriously, I should have found you. I wrote my BlogHer story today and let me just say it ends with me dancing in my hotel room with a robot, ALONE! My husband read the post last night and then asked me why I have a video of Michael Jackson. I yelled, “Fool, that is me!” So apparently the experience I had caused me to channel MJ I was so bonkers. Next BlogHer I will rule the universe! or at least find a friend.

I just want you to know that I’ve been reading every post about BlogHer and enjoying it immensely. And you’re not alone – I will go on a last-minute, freak-out shopping spree to find the perfect set of outfits, so know you are in good company. That’s part of my psycho side. Just as Rick. But I digress … if we somehow lived in the same city, I would take you to coffee and sit my ass down to hear EVERYTHING about your experience at BlogHer.